


Work is Third

by zarrati



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2018-02-19 07:51:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2380559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarrati/pseuds/zarrati
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Fight AU. Instead of telling her that maybe she's had enough to drink, Ben goes to get Leslie another "snork juice" and then he gets to dance up on her instead of Jean Ralphio. After that, they go back to Leslie's place, or maybe to the Snakehole bathroom, or somewhere else and have awesome drunk sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because of the change in the events at the club, this story will assume that Leslie and Ann's entire fight took place at their table in front of the Douche before going to the dance floor. Everything after that is AU.  

 

The entire night at the Snakehole, Ben had been unable to take his eyes off of Leslie. The temptation to go up to her when she first walked in was overwhelming, but almost immediately she made a beeline for Ann, which was where she stayed for most of the evening. Shot after shot of Snakejuice caused Ben's head to get fuzzy, but that didn't stop him from simply staring at Leslie in the booth with Ann and that Douche guy.

God, she's so beautiful, he thought to himself. Red really is her color. Wait, are those geese on her shirt? On any other person, he might have found that just a little bit odd, but on Leslie it was fucking  
hot. It was so cute, so perfect, so Leslie, to come into a nightclub wearing a shirt with birds on them for Christ's sake.

He continued to watch her as she also indulged in several shots of Snakejuice, her eyes starting to get glassy, and obvious tension was building at their table. All of a sudden, he hears Leslie and Ann start to yell at each other, a sound he never expected to hear in his life. They hurl insults and accusations back and forth, their anger and volume rising every second. Soon, Ann and the Douche take another shot before heading onto the dance floor, Ben finally seizing his opportunity to have a moment alone with Leslie.

"Hey are you okay? I heard yelling," he asks her, genuinely concerned about whatever might have happened between them.

"Yeah, I'm very angry, and I'm really drunk. Do you wanna dance with me? Go get me another Snorkjuice," she slurred, the anger in her voice mixed with her demand for another drink shot currents of electricity throughout Ben's body.

He knew another drink was the last thing that Leslie needed right now, but he just couldn't say no to her. He was given the opportunity to just a few intimate moments with Leslie, and he wasn't about to let his rational side get in his way. Besides, if he knew Leslie, she would get what she wanted whether Ben refused her or not, so he might as well be the one to indulge her.

He paused just the smallest moment, and he could see the impatience building behind Leslie's eyes.

Before she had a chance to change her mind, Ben nodded quickly and muttered that he would be right back, making his way over to the bar and ordering two more shots of Snakejuice.

As he waited, Ben looked over at Leslie who was still fuming, staring at Ann and the Douche as they danced with each other. Well, "grinding" was more of the term that Ben would use, but he wasn't much of a dancer anyway.

If only Leslie knew the power that she had over him. He was definitely not a dancer of any kind, and the mere fact that Ben was willing to risk utter humiliation on the dance floor simply because she asked him to was a big deal.

The bartender slapped down the two shot glasses, and Ben quickly made his way back towards Leslie who eagerly took the shot from him and downed it, Ben not too far behind. She slammed down the glass angrily and roughly grabbed Ben's hand, pulling him onto the dance floor.

He really had no idea what he was doing, moving awkwardly back and forth with absolutely no rhythm as Leslie danced in front of him. At first, it seemed as though she and Ann were competing, battling out whatever disagreement they had right there on the dance floor.

As Ann got more physical with the Douche, Leslie turned her back to Ben and begin to press her ass against him. Although he could tell that she was merely trying to mimic the moves that Ann and the  
Douche were doing, that didn't prevent the shivers that ran down his spine, nor the surge that shot straight to his cock.

This was literally a thousand different wet dreams coming true for Ben, but he was disappointed that Leslie still seemed to be more focused on Ann than him.

Fuck it, he figured. If she was going to play this game, then he was going to go right along with her. If sexual dance moves were what she wanted, he would try his damndest to make that happen.

As Leslie swayed her body to the music, her ass backing into Ben at every beat, he brought his hands to her hips, pulling her even tighter against him and moving along with her.

He could feel Leslie stiffen ever so slightly as she felt his hands on her hips, taking advantage of their proximity to one another and deliberately exaggerating her movements against him.

He pressed his cheek against her hair, making sure that she could feel his breaths against the skin of her neck. One of her hands almost immediately reached behind her to snake her fingers through his hair, their bodies still moving as one with the music.

Ben watched as Leslie's eyes slipped shut and she bit her lip, apparently getting lost in the music and their movements. Suddenly, she spun herself around in his arms to lace her fingers behind his neck, their fronts now perfectly flush against one other.

She began to grind herself into him even harder than before, her eyes, that only moments ago were filled with anger towards Ann, were now unmistakably overflowing with lust. Ben's heart almost stopped right there, having spent the last several months dreaming that one day Leslie Knope would look at him like she was at that moment.

The world around them disappeared, all thoughts of Ann and the Douche forgotten as they continued to dance against one another, letting the music guide them as they savored the feeling of their bodies so close together.

Had Ben been just a little more sober, he might have realized sooner that dancing so provocatively with one of his employees in public while his boss was somewhere in the room was a bad idea. But he wasn't sober, so it took several minutes of them grinding heavily against one another before the responsible side of Ben's brain kicked it.

"We should really stop," he said into her ear over the loud music. It wasn't until Leslie looked up at him with a crestfallen expression on her face that he realized how his statement must have sounded. She thought he wanted to _stop_ stop, not just stop until they could go somewhere more private.

Although he hated that even for just a brief moment he had caused Leslie pain, he was secretly delighted that the thought of stopping was just as horrible to her as it was to him. She really did want this, and that was all he had ever hoped for.

"I don't mean _stop_ stop, like for good," he quickly clarified. "God, I don't ever want to stop, but there are a lot of people here that can see us, and I know I saw Chris floating around here earlier. We technically can't do this because of that stupid, fucking rule, and I just think we need to stop now and take this somewhere else." He suddenly felt a wave of insecurity. "I mean, you do want this, right? It's not just me?"

At his clarification, Leslie smiled a beautiful, drunken smile. "No, it is definitely not jus' you." She pulled away from him and quickly grabbed his hand, rushing to the back of the club and out one of the side exits to the darkened parking lot.

As soon as they were outside and away from prying eyes, Leslie pushed Ben up against the side of the building and attacked his lips, her hands immediately running through his thick hair.

At the feel of her against him, Ben lost all sense of anything except the woman standing before him, and he eagerly returned the kiss, bringing his own hands to run through Leslie's soft, blond curls. He had dreamt of this moment for so long, reality ten thousand times better than even his most realistic fantasies.

Her lips were soft yet demanding, aligning perfectly with his own as if they were created for the sole purpose of kissing him. He could taste the Snakejuice on her lips, but there was another intoxicating flavor mixed in as well, a sweetness that he could only describe as so distinctly Leslie.

He has had his fair share of decent first kisses, but this one outranked them all by a long shot. Tom had been right, she knew what she was doing, and he loved it. Hell, he loved her, but even he wasn't drunk enough to reveal _that_ just yet. He only hoped that he would still remember all of this in the morning.

She pressed her tongue eagerly against his lips, Ben granting her entrance immediately as his hands migrated south from her hair down her body, feeling and memorizing every inch of her that he possibly could. They eventually rested against Leslie's hips, which he squeezed before pulling her pelvis completely flush against his, allowing her to feel his growing arousal.

He dropped his mouth from hers, trailing his tongue over every inch of her neck, gently sucking and nipping as he went.

"Oh, God, Ben," Leslie cried out, "you don't know how long I've wanted to do this."

He pulled back to look down at her hungrily, his eyes burning with pure desire. "I think I have a pretty good idea," he says dangerously low, "but I bet it's been nowhere near as long as I've been waiting."

A sultry smile played on Leslie's lips at his words, her eyes looking up at him with a mixture of want and amusement. "Yeah? How long has it been then?"

"Well, I was pretty sure I knew it was coming that morning at the bar a few days after I arrived, but definitely since the Freddy Spaghetti concert."

Leslie's eyes briefly lost their seductive gaze, and she looked at him with genuine surprise. "Seriously, that long ago?"

"Seriously. Just, all that you did in order to make all of those kids happy, Leslie. It was just so great," he looked shyly down to his shoes. "You're the reason that I paid for him to come back. I mean, I did want the kids to have their concert, but mostly I just wanted to make you happy," he finished with a shrug, slowly looking up to meet her gaze, terrified that he had revealed too much in his drunken confession.

If Ben had been sober, he might have identified the look in her eyes as something resembling love and adoration, but all he could see was the small smile on her lips and the water pooling in her eyes.  
{C}{C}{C}{C}

Before he could say anything else, Leslie crushed her lips against his once more, immediately finding his tongue with her own. "That was the single greatest and nicest thing that anyone had ever done for me," she murmured against his lips between kisses. "Thank you again for that; for everything that you've done for me since coming to Pawnee. Thank you for staying."

"I stayed for you," he whispered, brushing his nose against hers before trailing kisses across her face.

"I know," she said emotionally, pulling Ben's head away in order to look him in the eyes, "and right now we need to call a cab and get back to my place, because I don't need my chart to tell me that neither of us can drive, and the only thing preventing me from taking you right up against this wall is the fact that we could catch something from it."

Now, it had been established already that Ben was nowhere near sober, but even in his drunken state, he could recognize the look of pure, unadulterated lust in Leslie's eyes. "G-good call," he stuttered weakly, unsure of how his legs haven't just given out on him yet.

Even drunk off her ass, Leslie was always prepared, whipping out her cell phone and calling the cab company. "They'll be here in ten minutes," she told him a few moments later, "so, in the meantime, I think that we should continue to make out," she told him nonchalantly, her slurred speech the only indication of her current state.

Ben's lips pursed as he tried to coolly shake his head. "Yeah, uh, I think that would be a good idea," he responded before cupping her face in his hands and slamming his lips over hers. They continued their enthusiastic exploration of each other's mouths for several minutes until they saw the headlights of the cab pull in to the parking lot.

The pair stumbled towards the taxi, hands clasped, and giggling like drunken teenagers sneaking out after curfew. They climbed into the back seat and gave the driver Leslie's address before Leslie straddled herself on Ben's lap, claiming his mouth with her own.

"Do you think the cab driver is gonna mind?" Ben asked her quietly between kisses, not wanting to get thrown out of the taxi somewhere in the middle of Pawnee.

Without answering, Leslie turned around towards the driver and said, "There's an extra $20 tip in it for you if you ignore everything that we are doing back here. Don't worry, all clothes will stay on."

"Fine with me. Believe me, you don't want to know half of the things that I've seen go on back there," the driver replied, and Leslie turned back to Ben with a triumphant grin on her face.

"Problem solved. Now, shut up so I can make out with your adorable face some more."

The smile on Ben's face was quickly consumed by Leslie's lips, her tongue as insistent as ever and her hips grinding into him in time with her lips. His hands roamed over her back before settling on the curve of her ass, gently squeezing and pulling her even more firmly against him.

Leslie threw back her head slightly as she let out a small moan, Ben taking this opportunity to trail his tongue and lips across the expanse of her neck.

About ten minutes later, the cab pulled up to Leslie's home, and the couple tried to quickly collect themselves before leaving the driver a generous tip as they exited the cab. Although still technically drunk, Leslie's mind was beginning to clear, and she mentally kicked herself for suggesting her place.

Sensing her confliction, Ben gently squeezed her hand before turning her to face him, his hand gently cupping her face.

"Hey, if you are having second thoughts, we don't have to do this. I know this is a big deal, and I don't want you risking your job unless you are absolutely sure of what you want to do."

Seeing the look of understanding and care in his eyes warmed Leslie's heart, so touched that even now, he was still putting her first. "No, it's not that, it's just, well, uhm, I kind of wasn't expecting guests anytime soon, so the house is a wreck."

Ben visibly relaxed. "Please, Leslie, I live with April and Andy. I doubt anything you have could possibly be worse than what I come home to."

"Well, you see, it's not so much dirty messy as much as clutter. I kind of might have a teensy little hoarding problem, or so people tell me. I don't see how keeping a few extra newspapers and birdhouses around for posterity is anything bad, but it does take up a lot of space."

Ben smiled drunkenly down at her. "I'm sure it's fine. Besides, I have no interest in a tour of anything except the route to the bedroom right now. Wait, did you say birdhouses? No, never mind, it really doesn't matter to me. All that I care about right now is you," he told her gently as he ran his hand softly down the side of her face. "I've waited so long for this, and a little clutter isn't going to change my mind about anything."

At Ben's words, Leslie's eyes began to fill with tears, and she started sobbing right there on her front porch, Ben mortified that his confession caused Leslie to break down.

"Oh, my God, Leslie, are you okay? I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said that. It's too soon, I know, I just couldn't stop myself. The words just kept coming out, and I-"

Leslie cut him off with a fervent shake of her head and placed a finger on his lips. "No, I'm sorry, it's not that. I'm jus' stupid and drunk, and you're so sweet and adorable and saying all of these wonderful things that make me feel so warm and fuzzy on the inside, and I REALLY want to have sex with you, but we could get fired and that makes me really sad, and we left the club before I got to talk to Ann and now she probably hates me and life isn't fair," she sobbed.

"Damn it, Ben, why can't life be fair. All I want is to date you, work in the same building as my best friend, have Ann find a nice guy, build my park, and possibly become the first female President of the United States. Is that so much to ask?!" she yelled in exasperation, stepping forward to bury her head in Ben's chest as she continued to cry.

Ben's heart broke at Leslie's confession, wrapping his arms tightly around her as she clung to him, placing a gentle kiss on her hair as he whispered comforting words. "Shhhh. It's okay, baby, let it out. I'm here."

"You called me baby," she whined, her sobs growing stronger. "Why do you have to be so perfect and have such an adorable face and cute butt?"

Ben honestly didn't know how to respond to that question, so he simply continued to hold her, rubbing soothing circles across Leslie's back until her cries started to subside.

After some time, Ben finally spoke. "If it's one thing that I've learned, it's that life just isn't fair. I wish it was different, but it's the truth. All we can do when life hands us a shitty hand is play it the best that we can and take matters  into our own hands. I don't know what happened between you and Ann, but I do know that friends like you don't let arguments come between you. Talk to her and you'll work this out, and just because we are in a budget freeze, doesn't mean that you won't build your park. That park is your dream, and I know from personal experience that a little thing like a budget freeze won't stop Leslie Knope from getting what she wants."

Taking a deep breath, Ben continued, slowly threading his fingers through Leslie's hair. "And as far as you and I are concerned, I stayed in Pawnee for you, not this job. If quitting as Assistant City Manager means that your job is safe and I get to be with you, I'll do it. Just say the word, and I'll quit."

Leslie abruptly pulled away from Ben, her eyes red and puffy from crying, and her gaze out of focus from the Snakejuice. "Ben, I can't let you do that for me. I don't care what your reasons were for taking that position, but I couldn't bear the thought of you quitting a job that you enjoy for me."

"Then I don't know what else to do," Ben replied, his shoulders dropping in resignation.

After a moment of silence, Leslie spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "You know, Ann and I were fighting about you."

"What? Really? Me?"

"Well, sort of. I kind of got upset that Ann was out at the Snakehole instead of prepping for her interview tomorrow and that spiraled into an argument about all of the different guys she's been dating these last few weeks, and she said that the reason I thought she was moving too fast was because you and I were moving too slow. She thought I was jealous, and you know what? She's right. I saw her dating these different guys, trying to find someone she could be happy with, and the one person that I want more than anything is off limits. How could I say those things to my best friend? I told her that she didn't have a nursing degree in feelings. What kind of monster am I?!"

"Leslie, you're not a monster. You're a human being with human emotions. People fight about stupid, petty things, even best friends, but true friends forgive each other and move past it. I understand why you would be jealous and upset. It's only normal. Hell, there are some days that I can barely stand to be in the same room with Chris because of all of the grief that his stupid rule is giving me. What it all comes down to is what we do in response to everything. I know what risks I am willing to take, but the rest is up to you, and I will respect your decision no matter what."

Leslie let out a sigh of frustration. "I saw how much you drank tonight, and there is no way you are sober right now. How can you be so wise yet so drunk at the same time?"

"I would hardly call risking my job for a night of drunken sex wise, but I know how I feel, how I have felt for months, and I guess now I have the courage to act on it. But you should know that I don't think I could stand it if this is a onetime thing. I don't just want a night of drunken sex that I hope to God I'll still remember tomorrow. I want the entire package. I want dates and pet names and handholding and cuddling while we watch the History Channel. I want a relationship with you, Leslie Knope, and I don't know if you're ready for that."

"I don't know if I'm ready either," she said sadly, her voice barely audible.

Ben nodded his head slowly and pursed his lips, trying to maintain some semblance of self control while inside his heart was breaking into a million pieces. "I understand. Really, I do, but I'm gonna just go. I'm not too far, I think I'll just walk. You know, try to clear my head and sober up."

As he went to walk past her, Leslie shot out her hand and grabbed his wrist, holding him in place.

"I don't know if I'm ready, but I think that's my problem. Ann told me something else. She said I was using our jobs as an excuse to not act on how I really feel about you. I think she's right about that too. Of course she is, she's always right. So, I might not think that I'm ready, but I know that I should be. I'm just scared. I don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to relationships, and I guess that I'm afraid that this won't work, and I not only put our jobs on the line, but our friendship too. I've never connected with anyone the way I have with you. Don't get me wrong, I love Ann more than anything and she is the greatest, most wonderful, beautiful, talented-"

"Yes, I get it, you love Ann," Ben said impatiently, waiting for her to make her point, his heart not able to take any more suspense.

"But, anyway, she just doesn't _get_ me like you do. She indulges me because she loves me, but she doesn't always understand why I watch C-Span or DVR History Channel documentaries that I've seen 10 times already. You do, and I am terrified of ruining that." She reached up to cup his cheek, almost missing due to the alcohol. "The thought of not being friends with you is just too much to bear."

"But what if this doesn't fail, and we find some way to make this work with our jobs and live happily ever after? Don't we owe it to ourselves to at least try?"

"We do, which is why tonight I'm going to stop thinking "what if" and go with "what can be". I care about you so much, Ben, and it may have taken a million shots of Snakejuice and a fight with Ann to make me realize it, but please don't think that I don't want this, because I do. I want dates and pet names and handholding and cuddling while we watch the History Channel just as much as you do."

Ben couldn't resist anymore, and he lunged towards Leslie, attacking her with his lips in a sloppy kiss that she quickly reciprocated. Their coordination was off and hands were moving so frantically that they were almost more of a hindrance.

"Can we take this inside, please?" Ben asked against her lips, not too keen on the idea that several of Leslie's neighbors could be watching them at that very moment.

He felt Leslie nod against him, and her hands dove into her purse and searched for her keys, attempting to not break the kiss.

After several minutes, Leslie pulled back, erupting into a fit of giggles. "I am way too drunk right now to do two things at once," she laughed as she rifled through her purse.

Ben felt the loss of her immediately and attached his lips to Leslie's neck as she looked for her keys. He was rewarded by a satisfied moan as she felt him on her.

"Ben, if you want to get inside, you need to stop that so I can focus on finding my keys."

After a quick and gentle bite, Ben released her neck but still remained agonizingly close to her, not wanting to be any farther away from her than he needed to be.

After a few more seconds of digging, Leslie let out a triumphant cry as she pulled her keys from the recesses of her bag. After a few failed attempts at fitting the key in the lock, the couple was finally inside of the house, stumbling over the threshold as they once again devoured each other with their lips, their bodies barely inches apart.

"Okay, stay close to me and follow my directions," Leslie told Ben, who was walking backwards with her in his arms towards the stairs. "There are a bunch of stacks of newspaper that we are going to need to navig-navi, uhm, walk around."

Between kisses and caresses, Leslie gently guided Ben through the darkened house.

"Shouldn't we put a light on or something?" Ben asked.

"Don't worry. I literally could lead you through with my eyes closed. I know where everything is."

"Ouch, shit!" Ben exclaimed as he ran into a large pile, almost knocking himself off balance.

"Oops, sorry. I forgot about that one. Give me some credit. I'm drunk for crying out loud."

She lead Ben up the stairs and to her room without further incident, unsure of when Ben had managed to unbutton her blouse. His hands began to massage her breasts just as they reached her bed, Ben falling backwards onto the mattress and taking Leslie with him.

The pair kicked off their shoes and Leslie straddled Ben's waist, ripping off her unbuttoned blouse before she began to work on the buttons of Ben's own shirt, exposing his lightly toned chest. Her breath was momentarily taken away, having only ever imagined this part of him before, trying to ingrain this image into her foggy brain. She pressed her fingers firmly against him, mapping out the bare skin of his torso with her hands.

He was so much more muscular than she had expected, thinking that all that lay beneath those plaid shirts were skin and bones. He wasn't buff by any stretch of the imagination, but he had substance, a revelation that turned Leslie on even more.

Looking at Ben, she saw him breathing heavily, his panting more out of desire and an attempt at self control than actual tiredness, but what really struck Leslie were his eyes. They were a darker shade than she had ever seen them, looking at her like she imagined she was looking at him: a mixture of awe and lust.

She almost forgot that she had ripped off her shirt until she felt Ben's hand tentatively reach up and lightly stroke her stomach, his caresses so light and gentle as though he was afraid that she might break. She could feel the goose flesh rising under his fingertips, her abdominal muscles contracting wildly.

His fingers drifted north, skimming over her rib cage and just beneath the edge of her bra before moving down again, almost as if he was afraid of going too far. His eyes were wide, drinking in every inch of the glorious woman before him, blown away that he was even given the opportunity to be with her in this way.

"This better not be some Snakejuice induced dream, and if it is, I don't ever want to wake up," he whispered as his fingers continued their journey, Leslie's hands absentmindedly caressing Ben's side in response to his actions.

"Neither do I," she replied before leaning forward to claim his lips with her own, grinding herself into him as his hands grew more insistent, eventually reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra.

He felt her groan against his lips as he began to knead her breasts, his thumbs stroking back and forth over her nipples.

Flipping them, Ben hovered over her briefly, fully staring down at her exposed chest for the first time.

"Jesus, Leslie, you're so beautiful," he whispered, totally in awe of the goddess before him. Of course he took a glimpse of that Diaphena painting, and even as amazing as it was, it didn't come close to doing her justice.

At his words, Ben saw Leslie drop his gaze, looking away as her eyes once again began to glisten with tears.

Leaning forward, he pressed his nose against hers, placing a soft kiss on her lips before speaking. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked gently, wanting his voice to portray as much love and understanding as possible.

"I'm sorry. I'm always an emotional wreck when I drink. It's just, people don't usually tell me things like that. Sure, they tell me I'm smart, funny, cute even, but not beautiful."

"You mean none of your other, uhm, you know, partners, have told you that?" he asked in disbelief.

"Well, yeah, a few," she said with a small shrug, still refusing to meet his eyes, "but not very often, and never the way you just did."

Ben slowly turned her face so that she was forced to look into his eyes, his thumb slowly caressing her cheek. "Leslie, I don't know what any of those other guys were thinking, but you're gorgeous, and it's so much more than that. As cliché as this sounds, you are the most beautiful person that I have ever met, both inside and out, and I really mean that. To be honest, their loss is my gain, and I will tell you every day how wonderful and beautiful you are if you'll let me."

Leslie was speechless, his words striking her so deeply that the only response she could muster was to grasp him behind the neck and pull him down to her lips, hoping that he could tell just how much he means to her.

She moved her hands up and down Ben's chest before finally divesting him of his plaid shirt, her fingers trailing down towards his belt.

"Why are we still wearing pants? This has been officially declared a 'pants free zone'," she mumbled against his lips, her mouth swallowing the small chuckle that Ben let out at her declaration.

"Is that so? Under who's authority?" he shot back playfully.

"As President of this house, I have the power to issue Presidential Proclamations as I see fit."

"You know as well as I do that a Presidential Proclamation does not have the full force of the law unless first authorized by Congress."

"God, you're so sexy when you talk about the Federal balance of power," she said huskily, her hands beginning to unbuckle his belt and unzip his fly.

"But as your loyal constituent, I feel that it is my duty to comply with your wishes," he said as he helped Leslie remove his pants.

"Are those Batman boxers?" she asked incredulously, her gaze on the Batman symbol on his shorts and the straining erection behind it.

"Wha'? Oh, shit, I forgot I was wearing those. I wasn't exactly expecting to get lucky tonight or anything," he told her regretfully.

"Don't be embarrassed. I think it's adorable, and so Ben. Besides, I am much more interested in what's underneath of them anyway."

Ben's eyes lost their twinge of shame and grew dark and lustful once more, pressing himself flush against her as he placed hot, searing kisses across her face and neck. His lips travelled south, until they reached her breasts, eagerly pulling one into his mouth.

He would never get over how amazing she tasted, the fine layer of sweat adding a salty tang to the natural sweetness that seemed to ooze from her pores. It must be all of that sugar that she eats, he figured, but all thoughts were driven from his mind as he heard Leslie release an erotic moan, burying her fingers in his hair as she pulled him even more tightly to her, her hips bucking into his throbbing erection.

He turned his attention to her other breast, gently kissing and nipping the soft mound before circling his tongue over her hardened nipple.

Leslie's nerves were on fire, every touch from Ben shot bursts of pleasure straight through her. His mouth on her breasts was unlike anything she had ever felt.

In her romantic history, she had experienced the gamut when it came to types of men in bed. Some were rough and demanding, acting on the assumption that anything they did to her breasts was intensely enjoyable, not bothering to pay much attention to her own needs. Others were too timid and inexperienced, biting and sucking on her awkwardly until her skin was chapped, but again, not too many succeeding in making this a particularly enjoyable aspect of foreplay.

But what Ben was doing to her, she couldn't describe how amazing it felt. He knew just how much pressure to add before it would be painful, the right amount of teasing with his tongue, the small nips and licks that drove her wild. She usually had to take matters into her own hands, literally, to feel even half of what she was feeling now.

Before long, she could feel Ben's lips travel down the length of her torso, placing open mouthed kisses wherever he could and tracing nonsensical patterns on her skin with his tongue. He forged a path from her bellybutton to the waistband of her slacks, his hands rubbing up and down her thighs before settling on her zipper.

He removed her pants agonizingly slow, kissing almost every inch of exposed skin on his way down her legs. Throwing the clothing across the room, Ben's eyes settled on the lacey, black panties that had been hidden up until now.

"Those are definitely not comic book inspired," he blurted out, unable to tear his gaze from her.

She let out a small giggle at his statement, secretly relishing his look of shock and desire. "Little known Leslie Knope factoid: sexy underwear is a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine. Sometimes when I'm all business in my pantsuits, it get a little thrill from wearing something sexy underneath, but truth be told, I have more cartoon inspired underwear than I would care to admit."

"That is so hot," he mumbled before kissing her again, his tongue invading her mouth as his hands gripped and massaged her upper thighs. Leslie wrapped her own arms around Ben, feeling the taught muscles on his back before slipping her fingers beneath his boxers and settling on his ass. She began to knead and squeeze at his flesh, satisfied by the moans that Ben was making in response to her actions.

"You have the cutest butt I have ever seen. I can't tell you how badly I've been wanting to touch it like this. Even when I kind of hated you, I still thought you had an amazing ass," she said to him as he dropped his lips to her neck once more.

At her confession he lifted his head up to stare down at her, his expression a mixture of confusion and amusement.

"My butt? Really? Well, that's certainly a first."

"Oh, I doubt that's true. I might be the first person to admit it, but an ass like yours is certainly getting some attention, and not just from me." Leslie couldn't help but laugh, however Ben's mussed hair and swollen lips soon took her breath away, the sight of his bare, heaving chest sending another rush of wetness between her thighs, and she started rubbing her legs together just to feel some friction.

Ben smirked as he saw the affect that he was having on her, finding her eagerness both endearing and ridiculously arousing.

"Getting a little impatient are we?" he whispered huskily in her ear, his warm breath tickling her skin.

"When have you ever known me to be patient about anything?" she retorted, purposely cupping him trough his boxers, smiling a sneaky grin in response to his sharp hiss.

He quickly grabbed her wrist and lifted it above her head, bringing his mouth dangerously close to hers. "Good things come to those who wait."

"Bad things come to those who make me wait."

Suddenly, Ben slipped his fingers beneath her underwear and stroked her wet center. Taken by surprise, Leslie let out a sharp, erotic gasp, her hands flying up to clutch Ben's shoulders.

"Trust me," he said in a low voice as his fingers continued their ministrations, "I'll make it worth your while."

She could only nod in response, her breaths coming in short pants as he slowly applied more pressure to her clit and circled her opening.

"Oh, God," she whimpered as he plunged a finger inside of her, slowly pumping in and out of her before adding a second.

"You feel so amazing, Leslie. I can't wait to be inside of you."

"Then don't," she panted, letting out another soft cry as Ben's fingers curled inside if her.

"I told you, all in good time. Just trust me. I want this to last as long as possible. So help me, I will _not_ let any alcoholic concoction of Tom's make me forget this night. I want to remember it as long as I live."

Leslie tried to hold back her drunken giggle, but she was unsuccessful. "It sounded like you said alcoholic cock," she chuckled.

"Really? That's all you got from that? I was trying to be romantic," he laughed, honestly finding her drunken state charming.

"Don't blame me, blame Tom's alcoholic cock." She immediately made a face of disgust, one that Ben mirrored. "Okay, I went too far with that one."

"Yeah."

"Sorry."

"Let's just ban any and all talk of Tom from here on out. We're lucky that I'm so damn attracted to you, or else that brief yet disturbing mental image could have seriously set me back."

Suddenly, Ben started laughing uncontrollably, eventually tears started to form in his eyes.

"What's so funny?" Leslie asked, confused and somewhat worried by his sudden change in emotion.

"I'm sorry," he gasped between laughs, trying to control his breathing. "It's just us. This whole situation, really. Think about it. We got drunk on some crazy alcohol that Tom invented, you dance battled Ann at the Snakehole Lounge, we practically dry humped each other in a crowded club, and now we're talking about Tom's cock while my hand is literally in your underwear."

Leslie couldn't help but join Ben in his laughter, bringing her hands to cover her face. "Oh, God, it is different isn't it? But I like different. Different is what makes it special."

"I love different," he agreed, his fingers resuming their previous actions, Leslie's hips now rising to meet his movements. She took her lower lip in her teeth and threw her head back, trying to control the moans that were streaming out of her.

Unable to resist her now fully exposed neck, Ben begins to suck on her again greedily.

"Don't you dare give me a hickey on my neck where everyone can see, Ben Wyatt," she warned between gasps of air. "Honestly, why do men always feel the need to visibly mark the women they sleep with."

"Blame evolution for hardwiring us to make sure that our sexual competitors are aware of the mate we have chosen and therefore feel more confident in the success of passing on our genetic inheritance."

"Or I could blame a misogynistic society that has marketed women as property instead of as free thinking individuals capable of making their own choices when it comes to sexual partners."

"Yeah, that sounds about right. Honestly, I hate the idea of using hickeys as some kind of brand on a woman. I just got carried away, I'm sorry. You taste so damn amazing, Leslie."

Propping herself up just a little, Leslie ran her tongue over the skin where Ben's neck and shoulder met before biting him, not hard enough to draw blood, but there would most likely be an imprint of her teeth in his skin for a few days.

"Hmm, I understand your point. You don't taste half bad yourself, Wyatt," she said with a smirk.

"I can't believe you did that," he said to her incredulously, his eyes telling her that he wasn't angry, but aroused.

"Believe it, buddy. With all of those button up shirts and horrible ties that you wear, no one will see it, but you'll know it's there, just hidden beneath a thin layer of fabric, and I want it to drive you crazy."

Pulling his hand from her underwear, Ben supported himself on either side of Leslie's head, his body hovering dangerously over the length of her. "Oh, this means war, Knope. We shall see who's driving who crazy by the end of tonight."

"Bring it. You know I will never say no to a challenge."

"I was counting on it," he replied with a smirk before pressing himself firmly against her center, the thin layers of cloth unable to hide the warmth emanating from the both them. Leslie tried to hide her intense gasp, but to no avail, shivers running through her as she anticipated what Ben was about to do.  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Ben dropped his lips to her torso, his body moving down the length of her as his mouth blazed a trail to her pelvis. He placed a hot, open mouthed kiss over the crotch of her panties before pressing his tongue against the thin lace covering her center.

His hands reached up to her hips, and he hooked his fingers in the band of her underwear, ripping them off of her and tossing them across the room. He licked his lips as he stared at her, now fully exposed to him. She was even more beautiful than he could have ever imagined, so pink and wet and ready for him.

He slowly kissed his way back up her legs, settling his head between her thighs. Leslie, whose eyes were closed at this point, expected to feel him traveling further up her body. When she felt him stop between her legs, her eyes shot open, and she ran her fingers through his hair, gently trying to tug him upwards.

"It's okay, you don't have to."

"You don't want me to?" he said, his voice filled with disappointment.

"Uhm, no it's not that. It's just I know most guys don't really like it much. A lot of times they just do it out of obligation or something and it's not always that great. I just don't want you to feel like you have to."

Ben just stared at her, his eyes growing sad. "Leslie, I don't know what kind of selfish jerks you've been with, but I can guarantee you that I am definitely not doing this out of obligation. I'll stop whenever you want me to, but I have been waiting to taste you for months."

"You won't be offended if I don't like it and ask you to stop?" she asked shyly, her eyes staring at her hands as they nervously pick at her sheets.

"Not at all. Some women aren't stimulated that way, and that's perfectly normal. Just don't judge all of us based on what those assholes did."

Leslie let out a small laugh and nodded her head slowly. "Okay."

He went back up to her first, placing several soft kisses against her lips and face. Grabbing some of her pillows, he placed them beneath her head and one under her hips. "Is that okay? Are you comfortable?"

She smiled slightly, touched by his genuine concern. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Okay. Now, just relax. The looser you are, the better it will feel. Don't over think anything, and please feel free to direct me. What's the point in doing it if I'm not doing what you want. Remember, I'll stop the second you want me to."

With that, he kissed his way down her body, slowly trying to massage away any remaining anxiety. When he finally reached her blond curls, he gently brushed his nose over her, inhaling the sweet scent that he already knew he was going to become addicted to.

"How could anyone not just want to spend forever down here," he whispered to himself, but Leslie still heard him, unable to suppress the surge of emotions that overtook her. He really was perfect.

Ben placed kisses on the insides of both of her thighs before gently opening her legs a bit wider, Leslie taking initiative and bending her knees so that the soles of her feet were pressed against the mattress, her dripping center now completely open before him.

He continued to place soft, gently kisses around her thighs and pelvis, allowing his hot breath to caress her center, and he could see her squirming, the anticipation already building. He kissed all around before slowly licking the length of her, his tongue swirling around her clit before gently sucking on it.

"God, Ben," she gasped as she felt his tongue on her, immediately threading her fingers through his hair.

He gently sucked on both of her lips before licking her once more, the taste of her becoming almost too much for him to handle. He was sure that he could die right then as the happiest man on earth.

He alternated between lapping at her center, sucking, and then stroking her clit with his tongue, slowly increasing in intensity as he went.

Her small moans and cries of pleasure were making him harder every second, her grip on his hair becoming painful, but he didn't care. She could rip his hair out in chunks and it wouldn't stop him, especially not if she kept making the noises that she was.

"Is this okay?," he asked her quietly, wanting to make sure she was comfortable before he went further.

Her eyes were tightly shut, and she simply nodded her head vigorously, unable to form any type of verbal response.

He continued his pattern, but began sucking harder and harder on her clit, her whimpers and soft moans, transforming into loud gasps and cries. He then gently plunged two fingers inside of her, pumping them in time with his movements against her clit.

"Oh, fuck," she cried out, her language and the volume of her voice even shocking herself.

Ben immediately lifted his head from its place between her legs to stare at her, his fingers, however, never stopping their rhythm. He had never heard that word come out of her mouth before, and truth be told, he had never been more turned on in his life.

Leslie immediately felt the absence of his mouth and whined. "Ben, don't stop, please. I want your tongue back."

"Sorry, I guess I was just shocked there for a second."

She opened her eyes slightly and looked to him. "Yeah, sorry about that."

"Oh, God no, don't apologize. That was ridiculously hot and amazing," he said with a self satisfied smirk.

The sight of Ben's face between her legs was too much for Leslie to handle, and she immediately fell back against the pillows and closed her eyes.

His tongue resumed its attack on her clit as his fingers pumped in and out of her. He could tell that she was getting close, the muscles in her lower abdomen were starting to contract and her thighs were beginning to tense around his ears.

Ben increased the speed and intensity of his tongue as Leslie felt herself getting closer, lightly pushing herself against him and pulling at his hair as her cries grew in volume and length, until with one deep thrust of his fingers and a sharp suck on her clit, she was thrown over the edge, her orgasm ripping through her. Every nerve in her body was on fire, and she felt herself losing all awareness of her surroundings.

Ben continued his actions as Leslie came, her contractions strong against his fingers. God, he couldn't wait to feel that around his cock, he thought to himself.

Eventually, her breathing began to slow, and she loosened her grip on his hair. He placed soft kisses around her thighs and pelvis, until she opened her eyes and looked down at him.

"Wow," was all that she could say at the moment, her body still feeling the effects of her orgasm.

"So, you like doing that, right?" she asked him a few seconds later, her heart rate slowing.

"Yeah, I do. I honestly love it."

"Good, because you will be doing that a lot more in the future."

Ben's heart swelled to the point that he thought it might burst, overjoyed that she not only was pleased by what he did, but that she was already referring to a future for them.

He slowly inched his way over her, eventually hovering his face above hers once more. "I'll be looking forward to it," he whispered before claiming her lips, some of her juices still present on his tongue and mouth.

Leslie found it so hot and erotic, her tongue battling his for dominance. She brought her hands up to him, slipping her hand beneath the fly of his boxers and grasping him firmly, capturing Ben's guttural moan in her mouth.

After several long strokes, she released him and started to remove his shorts, Ben pulling them down his legs and discarding them.

Leslie's gaze immediately went to his now exposed cock, huge and throbbing. Mimicking Ben's earlier actions, she licked her lips at the sight of him, eagerly anticipating returning the favor. She pumped him several more times before pushing lightly against his chest, Ben taking her signal to switch positions.

Holding her tightly to him, he flipped them over so that he was now settled comfortably on her pillows, Leslie straddling him as they continued to kiss fervently.

She could feel his cock brushing against her ass as she sat in his hips, her wetness coating his skin.

Leslie kissed a trail down Ben's torso, purposely brushing her center over him as her hips moves past his. Her mouth eventually reached his cock and took him in as deep as she could, her tongue swirling around him as she moved over him, sucking lightly.

"Shit," he moaned as soon as he felt her warm mouth, his hands clutching the sheets with a vise-like grip. He exercised every ounce of self control that he possessed to not give in to his urge to thrust, allowing Leslie to take charge of their current situation.

Ben couldn't help but wonder if this was all real or some cruel, alcohol induced dream. He had fantasized about having Leslie Knope go down on him for longer than he would care to admit, and now that moment had finally arrived. He had some pretty realistic dreams in the past few weeks, but not a single one of them prepared him for the real thing.

Between the feel of her around him and the sight of her blond head bobbing up and down, Ben almost came right there, quickly shooting his hand to her head in order to stop her.

"Leslie, please, stop. It's been a while for me, and I need to build up a tolerance again to withstand a blowjob like that. The last thing I want on our first night together is for me to end things prematurely."

Releasing him with an audible pop, she crawled her way back up his body, a sultry smile on her face. "Now, that would be a bad thing," she said mischievously, nipping and pressing quick kisses to his lips.

Taking her by surprise, Ben flipped them over again, hovering over her and purposely pressing himself tantalizingly close to her entrance.

"Tease," he retorted, his grin now matching hers.

Leslie stared up at his face and reached to cup his cheek. "I want you so much right now. You're awesome, and I'm awesome and the sex will be awesome. Everything's awesome right now," she said to him before passionately kissing him, the kiss quickly escalating as tongues explored and hands moved frantically.

"Condom?" he asked against her lips.

"Pill."

"Thank God."

"Clean?"

"As a whistle."

"Me too."

"I know."

She pulled away and gave him a confused look.

"Leslie, you're completely drunk and yet you still have the sense to ask all of the right questions. I know you're safe. I trust you."

With that, he guided himself inside of her slowly, the pair releasing sighs of pleasure as he entered her and buried himself to the hilt. She panted against him and raised a hand to his chest, letting him know that she needed a few moments to adjust.

After a few agonizing seconds she dropped her hand and subtly nodded her head, Ben taking his cue to move once again as Leslie wrapped her legs firmly around his hips.

She was so slick that he moved in and out of her with ease, and she was squeezing him like a velvet vise. He dropped his forehead to hers, noses touching as their pants of breath tickled each other's lips.

Leslie's heels dug into Ben's lower back, urging him to thrust deeper and harder within her. Unintelligible cries and curses flew from both of their mouths, their lips attacking each other with a new found ferocity.

Leslie could feel the base of his cock brush against her clit with every powerful stroke, her body and mind overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations, but despite his force, there was an all encompassing gentleness that radiated from him.

His hands and mouth took turns caressing her breasts, not rough or demanding, but sincere and passionate. He buried his nose in her hair and breathed in her scent as she placed loving kisses against his neck.

They weren't fucking, like so many of their previous drunken experiences had been, and Ben wasn't another Mark. What they were doing was the epitome of making love, months of pent up frustrations and lonely nights culminating into this glorious moment. This wasn't some drunken one-night stand, but the promise of a future together.

He was worshipping her body, inaudible moans and whispers being spoken against her skin like prayers. Leslie could feel herself coming undone, the familiar coiling in her belly growing in intensity.

"Ben, more, please. God, I'm so close," she cried, clutching and scratching at his back, her nails digging into his flesh, but he didn't care.

Pulling himself up onto his knees, Ben began to drive himself into her, moving one of his hands to where they were joined, furiously rubbing his fingers over her throbbing nub.

Leslie's cries became louder and more insistent, her lower lip caught between her teeth, and her hands frantically grasping at the sheets beneath her. Her hips met his thrust for thrust, increasing the delicious pressure that Ben was placing on her clit.

Ben silently begged for her to come, not able to control himself for much longer. He moved his other hand to her breast and began kneading it, rolling and pinching her nipple between his fingers. That seemed to do the trick, and Ben was both pleased and relieved when he felt her stiffen beneath him.

Leslie came with a piercing shriek, her back arched as her orgasm surged through her. Ben continued to rub her clit, his thrusts somewhat impeded by the sheer force at which her contractions were squeezing him.

Ben knew he was getting close, and while Leslie was still reeling from her orgasm, he fell forward and buried his face in her neck, pumping in and out of her with a new, erratic rhythm. He was lost in his own world, desperate to come until he felt her arms circle around his back, rubbing gentle, loving circles over his skin, her soft voice urging him on.

All at once, he felt his balls catch on fire, his teeth dug into her shoulder as he tried to smother his loud groan as he came, his hot seed pouring into her in what felt like endless streams.

His shallow thrusts eventually subsided, and for several moments, the new lovers simply basked in the afterglow of their union. Growing soft within her, Ben eventually rolled off of Leslie, who let out a sad whimper as she felt him leave her, missing the feel of him filling her so completely.

The two were silent for several seconds, attempting to catch their breath as the cool air of the room provided a stark contrast against their hot, sweaty skin.

"I can't wait to do that again when we're both sober. If it was great now, I can't even imagine," Leslie trailed off, still panting as her mind reeled from the night's events.

"Neither can I," Ben replied, still in a Leslie and Snakejuice induced daze.

"I'll be right back. I'm just gonna go clean myself up real quick," she murmured before placing a quick kiss to his chest and climbing out of bed. She staggered towards the bathroom, Ben drinking in the view of her naked backside before closing his eyes and sinking into the pillows.

He couldn't believe it. He finally had sex with Leslie Knope, lifetime government bureaucrat and sexual firecracker. The goofy, satisfied grin stayed on his face for several minutes until he heard her bathroom door open, and she sauntered back towards the bed, Ben now mesmerized by the gentle bouncing of her breasts as she walked.

Ben quickly shot out of bed, his sudden movements briefly disorienting him. He met her halfway across the room, wrapping his arms around her and claiming her lips with his own, his hands settling in the curve of her backside as he tasted the minty toothpaste on her breath.

"I'm gonna go clean up, too," he whispered against her lips, playfully pulling them between his teeth.

Leslie looked up at him shyly, her voice trying to portray confidence, but failing miserably. "You are, uhm, staying tonight, right?"

"I was certainly planning on it. This is the real deal for me, remember. I'll stay here until you kick me out," he grinned, hoping to quell any doubts she might have.

"Good. I'm glad you're staying," she whispered, looking up at him with a smile.

He placed another quick kiss on her lips before moving towards her bathroom.

"And I'm glad  _you're_  staying, too," Ben heard her say behind him. Turning his head towards her in confusion, he saw Leslie gazing at his ass with a satisfied smirk on her face.

"Wait, was that- were you talking to my butt?" he asked with an amused grin.

She let out a childlike giggle at his question, nodding her head vigorously in response.

He let out a full laugh and shook his head as he walked to the bathroom, Leslie making her way back to the bed and flopping herself on the mattress.

She still couldn't believe everything that happened. In just a few hours, they went from tension filled flirting and races in City Hall, to hot, passionate sex with the promise of a future together. It was all so  much, and if it wasn't for the alcohol dulling her, her over rational, pessimistic side might have caused her to freak out just a bit.

But for now, she was laying naked in her bed, completely sated while a gorgeous boy Mayor turned State Auditor turned Assistant City Manager cleaned himself up in her bathroom. Her lips formed a self-indulgent smile right as she heard the bathroom door open, revealing Ben in all of his naked glory as he crossed the room, letting out a yawn as he rubbed his eyes.

Crawling back into bed, Ben gathered Leslie in his arms, their noses brushing against one another as Ben pulled the comforter over them.

"Hi," he smiled at her, his voice a barely audible whisper.

"Hi," she responded, her grin mirroring his own.

"I hope you don't mind, but I found an extra toothbrush in your medicine cabinet and opened it. Didn't want to offend you with dragon breath."

Leslie giggled, burying her face into his chest and kissing his skin. "That's fine. I always keep extras around in case Ann stays over, but now you have your own to keep here," she said softly, her fingers playing with the few hairs on Ben's chest.

"Good, because I plan on staying over a lot."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Leslie smiled brightly up at him, but soon a yawn overtook her. "I'm so tired."

"Me, too"

"I'm going to bed now. Please still be here when I wake up."

"There isn't any place else that I would rather be."

~*~*~*~*~

 

The early morning sun came pouring into Leslie's room, the soft glow waking her as it violently assaulted her closed eyes. She groaned at the intrusion, her head pounding as though someone was beating it with a mallet, and her mouth was painfully dry. She felt like she was going to be sick, already sensing that this was going to be one of the worst hangovers of her life.

Attempting to shield her closed eyes from the sun's attack, she turned to bury her face in her pillow, but it felt different. It was warm, too warm, slightly wet with sweat, and felt hairy. Also, why was it moving? Holy shit, her pillow was breathing. Why was it breathing?!

Too sick to open her eyes or put forth much of an effort to move, she reached up to touch whatever she was resting on, and came into contact with someone's chest. She panicked for a moment, realizing that she was totally naked. She slowly trailed her hand down this mystery person's body and, oh, yup, he was naked too.

Leslie wracked her brain, willing herself to recall everything she did the day before, but the images were fuzzy. Suddenly, the form next to her moved, wrapping his arms tightly around her and pulling her close. Her face became buried in his chest, and she took an involuntary deep breath against his skin.

That's when she smelled it, the oh so familiar scent of Ben's masculine cologne, or aftershave, or bodywash, or whatever the hell he used that made his skin smell so wonderful. Almost instantaneously, the events of the previous night flashed through her mind, not necessarily in any kind of logical order, but the memories were there, just buried beneath the surface.

She remembered the club, the  _several_  shots of Tom's alcohol, her fight with Ann, dancing with Ben, making out with Ben, talking with Ben, making promises to Ben, and of course, having sex with Ben. The shock of it all became too much for her, and she desperately wanted to get away, but her eyes and body felt weighted down, any sudden movements and she knew she would end up getting sick everywhere.

She moaned once more, partly due to her hangover, but also from her current predicament. What if everything that happened last night was just fueled by the alcohol? Did Ben really mean what he had said? Did she? Was she really ready to risk her career for a relationship?

Everything seemed so simple and clear cut last night. They would carry out this secret love affair behind Chris' back, finding some magical solution that would save them both, but life doesn't work that way.

She thought back on her fight with Ann. She had been right about everything, but was that enough? The fact still remained that her job was on the line, and Ben's.

She had sex with Ben last night, and it was awesome. That part she definitely remembered, thank goodness. Perfect, Snakejuice was one of the first and only alcohols to get you hammered, make you do crazy things, and give you a killer hangover, all without the common courtesy of at least making you forget everything you had done the night before. She could see the advertisement now.

Leslie was pulled from her thoughts by movement next to her, the sun apparently having a similar affect on Ben.

"Oh, God," he moaned dramatically, "I think I'm dead. Am I dead?"

Leslie didn't respond, she just laid there frozen.

At the same time, Ben was having his own moment of disorientation and panic, trying to piece together his thoughts while his head felt like it was about to explode.

Gathering the information that he had, he tried to piece everything together. He wasn't at home, that as obvious. This clearly wasn't his bed, and there wasn't the scent of turkey chili wafting in the air. Oh, bad move thinking about turkey chili, he thought as his stomach churned, suppressing the urge to vomit.

Okay, so not at home and there was a naked woman in his arms. Shit, he had gone home with someone last night, but as soon as he started to internally freak out, he smelled the scent of Leslie's shampoo on his pillow, cracking his eyes open just briefly enough to get a glimpse of her blond curls against his chest.

Oh, thank goodness, he thought. He was with Leslie, and slowly but surely he remembered the events of the previous night. That's right, he went to the Snakehole to support Tom and got wasted on that crazy poison masking as a high end beverage.

He could recall dancing with Leslie and then her kissing him before going back to her place. He remembered his confession and her tears and their promise of a relationship, all culminating into some of the best sex of his life.

But they had been drunk, and people don't think clearly when they're drunk. He knew he was still one hundred percent committed to giving this relationship a chance, but he wasn't sure if Leslie still was. That thought alone broke his heart, not knowing if he could emotionally handle a rejection after the night that they had and the promises that they had exchanged.

Still unable to move, Ben tentatively spoke, figuring now was as good of a time as any to broach the subject.

"Leslie?" he called out, and his heart shattered at the feeling of her stiffen next to him.

"Yeah?" she replied uneasily, scared about what was coming next.

"I can't move, and I feel like I'm about to die."

"Me too. I have never been this hung-over."

Swallowing quickly, Ben forged on. "So, uhm, do you remember what happened last night?"

Unwilling to be the first to admit anything, she threw the conversation back to him. "Do you?"

Wanting to lay all of his emotions out before her, he exhaled slowly. "Yeah, I do, and I don't regret a thing. What, uh, what about you?" he asked quickly, bracing himself for whatever her response might be.

"I remember," she whispered so softly that he could barely hear her.

"And?"

"And I'm scared," she confessed. "Last night was amazing, but I wasn't thinking clearly. How are we supposed to do this, Ben? How can we keep seeing each other if it puts our jobs a risk? I want to be with you so badly, but I don't know if I can risk getting caught."

"So everything you said last night meant nothing?" he asked, his voice becoming upset despite his best efforts to remain neutral.

"No, of course not. I just, I don't know. I just need time to process everything, okay. Please, believe me, I really want this, but I just need to put aside all of my drunken thoughts and confessions and make an informed decision. Please," she pleaded, her voice shaky and eyes laced with tears, "just let me think everything over today. We'll meet back here tonight and talk everything out with completely clear heads. Oh, God, my head," she groaned as she tried to sit up.

"So, you promise we will talk everything out tonight?" he questioned, his voice so meek and desperate that it broke Leslie's heart.

"I promise. I really do care about you, Ben. I just don't want us to ruin everything by rushing into something. Okay?"

"Okay."

After a long pause, Ben groaned aloud again. "Ugh, we have those health department interviews today."

"Crap on a stick. I don't think I can move."

"We don't have much of a choice. I need to get up and somehow get home to change. God, I feel so gross."

"Uhm, if you want you can shower here, and then we can share a ride back to the Snakehole to get our cars," she suggested, not wanting to be separated from him just yet.

"You know, I should have an extra change of clothes in my trunk. Force of habit from my time on the road. Are you sure that's okay with you?"

"Yes, definitely," she replied quickly, mentally chastising herself for appearing too eager.

"Okay, great, thanks," he said, an awkward silence following.

"So, uhm, you can shower first, and I'll try to go downstairs and make some coffee."

"Alright, thanks."

Ben slowly pulled back the comforter and lifted himself from the mattress, the pain in his head increasing in intensity, which he didn't think was possible. He rolled onto the floor, and knowing he would never be able to fully support himself, he crawled towards the bathroom, in too much pain to even think about how ridiculous he must have looked.

It wasn't as though Leslie was paying any attention to him anyway. She was attempting to maneuver herself out of bed, having about as much success as Ben did. She crawled on the floor towards the door, coming across Ben's shirt and putting it on without thinking. After several failed attempts, Leslie slowly lifted herself up and gradually made her way down the stairs and to the kitchen.

Moving at a snail's pace, she added the water and her strongest coffee grounds to the maker, sitting at her table and burying her head in her hands as she waited for the hot drink to brew.

Leslie got lost in her thoughts, worried about her fight with Ann, the interviews today, and of course, what the next step was with Ben. She didn't even realize how long she had been sitting there, being pulled from her thoughts by the sound of Ben shuffling across her floor.

He wasn't wearing a shirt and looked like hell, but Leslie doubted that she looked any better, to be honest. He slowly made his way towards the table, resting his hands on the back of a chair, using it to support his weight.

"You weren't kidding when you said you had a lot of newspapers," he mumbled as he squeezed the wood of the chair. "So, I'm sorry, but I threw up in your shower."

She waved her hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. I'll probably be doing the same in only a few minutes."

"Is the coffee done?"

Looking over at the coffee maker, she noticed that it must have finished brewing sometime when she was lost in her thoughts.

"Uh, yeah. There are some mugs on the counter, and I set out the bottle of aspirin," she replied, wincing as she slowly got herself up from the chair.

As Leslie stood, Ben's eyes grew wide, noticing for the first time that Leslie was wearing his shirt and nothing else. Only a few buttons were fastened, the swell of her breasts barely hidden. On her petite frame, the shirt reached down to her thighs, leaving the pale flesh of her legs exposed.

"You're, uhm, you're wearing my shirt. That's why I couldn't find it."

Looking down at herself, she realized for the first time that she had indeed put on Ben's shirt as she crawled across her floor.

"Yeah, sorry. It was the first thing that I came across this morning. I hope you don't mind."

"Oh, no. It's, uh, it's fine. Looks good on you," he said nervously, kicking himself for his last comment.

Instead of being offended, Leslie smiled shyly towards the floor, attempting to hide her face. She grabbed herself a cup of coffee, added her usual mountain of whipped cream, and savored the hot liquid as it seared down her throat.

"Ugh, how can you manage to eat whipped cream right now?" Ben asked disgusted.

"I am  _never_  too sick for whipped cream."

Ben chuckled at the seriousness of her response. "Good to know," he teased, and for a brief moment the pair smiled at each other as though nothing had changed. The mood was broken, however, when Ben's eyes once again flickered down to his shirt hanging loosely on her small body, his face dropping.

Leslie, noticing his gaze, quickly folded her arms in front of her chest. "So, I'm gonna go get ready. I won't take too long, so help yourself to anything that you want. Then we can catch a cab back to the Snakehole to get our cars."

Ben just stared at the coffee in his mug, barely shaking his head in an acknowledgement.

Walking past him, Leslie doubled back and turned to face him. He raised his head to meet her eyes, his own looking towards her questioningly. Leslie reached her hand towards Ben, running her fingers delicately over his bare chest.

He inhaled sharply as she touched his skin, his heart rate increasing at a dizzying speed. Just as he was about to ask what she was doing, her hand went behind his neck and pulled his lips down to hers, her mouth soft and eager against him.

Pulling back slowly, Leslie ran her thumb over his lower lip, a wistful look on her face.

"Leslie, wha-" Ben began to say but Leslie interrupted him with a finger on his lips.

"We'll talk tonight, I promise. I just needed to do that, I'm sorry. If it's any consolation, I didn't want to stop," she said with a sad smile before leaving the room, Ben left dumbfounded in the middle of Leslie's kitchen.

~*~*~*~*~*~

So far, the interviews for the P.R. director were going terribly. Between the horrible candidates, their pounding headaches, and the obvious tension, the morning probably couldn't have gone worse.

"Ugh, all of these candidates are garbage. Ann is like a million times better than any of these losers," Leslie said in frustration after their latest candidate left the room.

"Maybe she'll still show up," Ben said reassuringly, hoping to raise her spirits.

"I don't know. We said some pretty horrible things to each other, and I  _did_  just leave the club in the middle of our dance battle."

Ben looked away, slightly embarrassed as he flashed back to what had happened in the club the night before. "Well, like I told you yesterday, you two are great friends, and I think you can work it out."

"Thanks," she responded with a sad smile, briefly holding his gaze.

Checking his watch Ben spoke quickly, an idea forming in his head. "Well, we have an hour break before the next interview, so I'm gonna run and catch up on some work in my office. I'll see ya later," he said rushed, before leaving the room, his head spinning as he stood up.

He knew what he needed to do. Ben felt partly responsible for Leslie and Ann's fight, even though realistically he knew it wasn't his fault that he happened to be one of the topics they argued about. But still, Ann must have seen them leave together, and that might not have been the best thing to do when you are in the middle of a fight with your best friend.

He drove the few minutes to Ann's house and knocked on her door, hoping that she was home. She opened door looking about as good as he felt.

"You're wearing snow pants," he said matter-of-factly, confused by her wardrobe choice.

"I got home last night, and I thought I might go sledding," she responded, confusion written across her own face.

Looking at the perfectly sunny, warm day, he turned back to her. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, if your quiet," she said with a somewhat pained expression on her face, taking a drink from her bottle.

He followed her into the house as she collapsed onto her couch with a groan.

"Leslie doesn't know I'm here..."

"Oh, God," she groaned, "It's so high school. I can't believe Leslie and I got drunk at a bar and fought about boys, and then she just ran off. I didn't even see her for the rest of the night." Suddenly, realization hit Ann, what took place on the dance floor coming back to her.

"Wait, the last thing I remember was that the two of you were dancing pretty heavily together and then you left. Did you-did she?" At Ben's downcast and guilty face, Ann had her answer. "Oh, my God, you did, didn't you?"

"Okay, fine, yes, I went home with Leslie last night, but I'm only telling you that because I know she would have told you by now if it wasn't for your fight, but I didn't come here to tell you that. I came here because Leslie and I did a lot of talking last night, and I know that I am part of the reason that you two argued.

"Look, I don't really know you that well, but I know how much you mean to Leslie, so that must mean you're a really great person. She really feels horribly about what happened yesterday. Well, I guess technically we all do."

"Yeah, what the hell is in Snakejuice? Demerol?"

"But I thought you should know just how much your friendship means to her. She wants nothing more than to apologize, and she really does love you. I guess I just thought you should know that," he finished with a small shrug.

Ann smiled softly up at him. "You're nice. I'm glad that something finally happened between you two."

"Really?" he responded, unable to control the smile that formed on his lips. "I thought you might be upset that we kind of ditched you in the club. I really am sorry about that, by the way."

"Don't worry about it," she said with a small wave of her hand. "I'll admit, I was upset about that last night, but I really just want for her to be happy."

"Yeah, well, that might be a bit premature," Ben blurted out, staring at Ann's floor while he buried his hands in his pockets.

"What do you mean?" she looked at him questioningly.

Sighing deeply, Ben figured he might as well tell her, having revealed so much to her already.

"So last night we kind of agreed that we would try to make this work despite Chris' rule and everything. I mean, I'm all in, one hundred percent, but last night we were both drunk and not thinking clearly-"

"And now Leslie might be having second thoughts," Ann finished for him, his nod of agreement telling her she was spot on. Of course she was, she knew Leslie almost as well as she knew herself, and Leslie wouldn't just stick with a drunken decision, even if it was one that she wanted desperately.

"Yeah."

Sighing, Ann took another drink from her bottle as she took in all that Ben had told her.

"Ben, Leslie's job is one of the most important things to her, and the thought that your relationship could jeopardize that terrifies her. I honestly think that she will make the right decision, but she just needs some time to realize that herself. I don't know you that well either, but the fact that Leslie likes you so much and that you came all the way here to talk to me tells me that you're an amazing guy. I just think that because she made her commitment while drunk, that scared her into questioning everything. I'm almost positive that she will come to the same conclusion, she just needs a little time."

Ben looked to her appreciatively. "Wow, uhm, thanks for that. I hope you're right. I really care about her."

"I know," she said with another sad smile, silently hoping that Leslie would choose to follow her heart.

"Well, I gotta get back to the interviews. Think I'll see you there?"

"You know, I think you will," she said as she stood up, releasing a groan as her head throbbed. "That is if I don't die before I get there."

"Yeah, I feel you. Well, I'll see you around," he said with a small wave of his hand, turning towards the door.

"See ya," she said with a small wave goodbye. As Ben shut door behind him, Ann let out a sad sigh. She really hoped that Leslie would stop worrying so much for once and just do what made her happy, but first things first. Ann desperately needed a shower; she had an interview to go to.

Ben made it back to City Hall just in time for the next round of interviews, taking his seat next to Leslie.

"Hey, where were you? I stopped by your office looking for you but you weren't there," Leslie asked him as he sat, trying to mask her intense curiosity, but failing miserably.

"Oh, uhm, I just had a few errands to run, that's all. No big deal. Who's next?"

~*~*~*~*~

"Jan Cooper was a terrible wife. I just want everybody to know that."

"Thank you, Dennis, but we can't give you your job back," Leslie told him, she and Ben exchanging a quick look.

"You sound just like her," Dennis accused angrily before picking up his padfolio and leaving the room.

"That was unpleasant," Ben deadpanned.

"Yeah," Leslie agreed. "Alright, who's next?" she asked just as Ann walked into the room, her sweater on backwards and inside out. "You came!" Leslie exclaimed.

"Yeah, I had some encouragement," she replied as she sat down, exchanging a knowing smile with Ben.

Leslie couldn't believe that he did that for her. That must have been where he spent that hour away from the office. She turned to look at him, unable to hide the gratitude and disbelief that showed on her face.

"Your sweater is on inside out," Ben said as he pointed to Ann with his pen.

"And backwards," she replied as she tugged at the tag. "It's been a tough morning. Lots of regret and shame. Should be the official slogan for Snakejuice."

Clearing her throat, Leslie began to speak. "Well, uh, this committee would like to ask if you are the kind of candidate who could forgive someone after they behaved like a complete jackass."

"This candidate could, especially because this candidate also behaved like a total jackass."

"Please, don't worry about it. The committee totally understands," Leslie said with a wave of her hand, the women exchanging sincere smiles.

"Also, I can talk about my qualifications for this position, but first, I am gonna throw up in a wastebasket."

"Would you mind if I joined you?"

"Not at all. Shall we?"

The friends stood up from their seats and moved towards the door. As Leslie walked past Ben, she called over to Ann and said she would be right there. Ann just gave her a small, knowing smile and shook her head, closing the door behind her to give them a few moments of privacy.

Before Ben could speak, Leslie leaned down and roughly pressed her lips against his, forcing her tongue into his mouth. He eagerly reciprocated the gesture, and any questions he might have had about her actions were pushed from his mind as her lips and tongue danced over his.

"I can't believe you did that for me," she told him after ending the kiss.

Still in a state of shock, Ben just gaped at her. "Uh, I just thought that she should know how much she means to you, and I wanted to apologize for leaving her at the club last night."

She looked at him in disbelief, wondering how someone so perfect could possibly exist. Unable to control herself, she leaned in for another quick kiss.

"Be at my place as soon as you can after work," she murmured against his lips, "and bring a change of clothes with you."

Ben looked to her with an expression of surprise mixed with suppressed excitement.

"Does that mean-? Are you sure?"

"We still have a lot to talk about, but I've made my decision. Anyone who would do all that you have for me is worth any risk that we might have to take. I want to do this. It's time that I stopped putting work before everything else."

The smile on Ben's face was glorious, no longer able to contain his joy. He reached for her and brought her lips to his for another searing kiss, failing to stop the excited laugh that slipped out of him.

After a few minutes, Leslie pulled back. "I wasn't kidding, though. I really do need to throw up."

"Oh, sorry," he said quickly, releasing her from his grasp. She walked outside into the hall, but not before shooting Ben another smile over her shoulder. This was going to work, and it would be awesome.

~*~*~*~*

Leslie sat at her desk with her hands folded as she addressed the camera, her happiness and excitement over everything that had happened during the last several days practically oozing out of her.

"We need to remember what's important in life. Friends, waffles, and work, or waffles, friends, work. It doesn't matter, but work is third. Ben and I have decided to give our relationship a chance despite Chris' rule. We know it will be tough, and we could lose our jobs, but there are some things that are worth the risk. We're in it for the whole package: dates, adorable pet names, lots of hand holding, and super awesome cuddling while we watch the History Channel. I think this could be the real thing, and I'm glad that we are taking this chance."

She paused for a moment, a smirk forming on her lips. "Besides, the sex is  _way_  better when we aren't drunk. Hmm, I probably shouldn't have said that," she immediately amended, her face scrunching up in regret. "But either way, I am finally putting work third, and I couldn't be happier."

 


End file.
